Learning to Say No
by ShilohPR
Summary: Bella Swan's new life in Forks was relatively uneventful, until the day that gossip-hound Lauren leaned in and whispered, "Rumor is Edward Cullen has a bit of a thing for you." There was no going back from there. AU, All-human, completed just reposting.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: Remember this thing? It was gone. Now it's back. I'm reposting for nostalgia, but won't be editing, and will try not to cringe at this thing I wrote so long ago. :) Six years guys! Six years is a long time ago._

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**Learning to Say No**

**Chapter One**

At Christmas we wear chunky red sweaters and at Easter we wear frilly pastel dresses and at Halloween we dress like whores. I learned this as a little girl, long before I was consciously aware of my own modesty and distaste for gawdiness or excessive amounts of skin. In Phoenix I had worn jeans on a daily basis despite the heat, which my friends there had teased me about. Now, in Forks, I continued my habit of layering shirts that didn't quite contrast but didn't match either. It drove Alice crazy, my best friend who only left the couch during awards shows long enough to pee and make popcorn because she had to critique the dresses. Since I had moved to Forks for good a month ago, she had made it her personal mission to instill some "style" on me.

And what better opportunity to put her plan into action than at Halloween? Apparently Halloween was a bit of a big deal in Forks because what else was there to make a big deal of? Whomever had a free house threw a big party at which all the boys dressed like gangsters and all the girls dressed like skanks, everyone got trashed, and the ensuing drama –because when there are drunk girls, there is drama—was all anyone talked about for the next two months until time for New Years' Eve parties.

When I had voiced my desire to not go, Mike Newton had offered that he and I could watch horror films at his place instead if I preferred. Jessica Stanley choked on her orange juice. Alice sent me a death-glare across the table. My options were to sit at home alone in Charlie's old house and hand out candy to the masked children that dared knock on the door, or else go play wingman for Alice.

I had caved then, but now severely regretted my lack of a spine, pressed into the backseat of Jessica Stanley's VW bug between Alice, Lauren, and Angela. Alice's older brother's girlfriend Rosalie rode in the front seat, which added an air of discomfort to the already crowded car. A sophomore in Seattle Pacific, the only reason she was even back in Forks was because Emmett wanted to party with his old friends instead of Rosalie's new friends. He had decided against the college route and was working as a mechanic at the moment and living at home still, but recently he had decided maybe he would like to be a high school football coach. He certainly had the barking voice for it. But so he wanted to party in Forks, so Rosalie came home, but needed a ride into Port Angeles because Emmett and "the boys" had spent the afternoon watching some game in some pub. I didn't even pay attention to know what was in season in October; football, I guess. Rosalie needed a ride, and Alice played the good little-sister-of-the-boyfriend card by suggesting she could ride with us.

This just meant an overflowing bucket of awkwardness for the rest of us.

"I was thinking a Playboy Bunny," Lauren answered outloud to Jessica's question. "That's not overdone, is it?"

"Oh, in Forks you'll be fine," Jessica assured. "I think I may go the sexy witch route. Or maybe a devil? I haven't decided yet."

"If I go as an angel, do I get to wear the floor-length white sheet?" I whispered to Alice, to which she rolled her eyes and announced loudly, "No, Bella, you are not being an angel for your first Halloween."

Fuck you, Alice Brandon.

"First Halloween?" Angela pressed, leaning around Alice – or at least trying to. VW Bugs were really not built with backseat passengers in mind.

"It's not my first Halloween," I snapped, glaring at Alice. "I dressed up and went trick-or-treating as a kid. I just haven't done it in . . . in a few years."

"What's a few years?" Alice nudged, feeding the excitement that glistened in Jessica's and Lauren's eyes. If Alice was trying to be my fashion savior, the two of them were a social team intent on saving me from social suicide. Alice had rolled her eyes in the beginning that really, it was probably more that they wanted to latch onto the automatic status I got being the "new girl," attempting to use that to their advantage, adding my newness to our combined case of trophies alongside likes Lauren's cool confident demeanor and Jessica's bubbly personality. I didn't like Lauren too much but Jessica was all right, and the two of them were buddying up since I'd started spending more time with Alice.

Now, Lauren answered for me, "You probably mean since you grew a chest and legs, right?"

"I, ah . . . well, that's one way to put it."

"Well then this is perfect!" Jessica squealed, clapping her hands. "Bella, this is your chance to really sell yourself! I mean . . . not like that . . ." I saw even Rosalie turn her head to snicker into her hand. I hadn't thought she was listening to us, staring out the window as our stupid little high school chatter rolled around the car. "What I mean is, this is your chance to, you know, show your sexier side!"

I snorted and then erupted into laughter at that, almost crying as I insisted, "I don't have a sexier side. I am what I am."

"Oh, Bella, that's not true at all," even Alice insisted, wrapping our fingers together. "I think you're extremely sexy." I gave her a dubious look, not sure if she was teasing or actually trying to be serious. She continued to grin at me serenely.

"All the boys really like you," Angela offered as well, reaching her arm across Alice to pat my leg. I felt Lauren stiffen a bit beside me but she said nothing. "Now you can just really impress them. Show them a Bella they haven't seen before."

"You mean show them what they haven't see of Bella," I retorted.

"Really, though, you have no reason to be self-conscious, Bella. We'll find you something that highlights your best features."

"Which are?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Hm . . . your eyes . . . and your hair," Alice suggested, while Angela offered, "You have really nice legs."

"Actually you do have nice legs," Lauren admitted. "And a flat stomach, right?"

"And you've got enough curves to be sexy!" Jessica helpfully offered. I groaned and covered my face, sinking into the seat.

"Besides," Alice insisted, as though to finish off the appraisal, "You can say it till you lose your voice, but it was not my smile that got us backstage last weekend . . ." That's right. I had gone to a Jason Mraz concert with Alice, and afterwards we had somehow charmed our way backstage and met the man. Afterwards, I had made her swear never to tell anyone how close I had come to hyperventilating just to meet such a talented musician. "Face it," she ordered, patting my knee, "You're sexy. You'll have to dress to impress."

"But I'm not trying to impress anyone," I pointed out, and Jessica's smile grew in the front seat. Mike was nice, but as far as I was concerned, she could have him.

"It's not just going to be our usual boys, of course," Lauren argued, crossing her arms. "I mean, Mike, Eric, Tyler, Ben, they'll all be there, but there will be older boys, too. Everyone goes to these things."

I sighed, feeling like David up against four Goliaths, and conceded just to get them to leave me alone, "Well, we'll see what we find. Who are shopping with?"

"Um, Mike, Tyler, and Ben, and then of course Emmett, Jasper, and Edward," Angela answered, nodding at Rosalie's back as though to assure her she had not been forgotten. As if Rosalie would care.

I laughed and let my shoulders sag with relief that only Alice would sense the insincerity of, "Good, then I'm safe. Ben will only have eyes for you, Angela, since you two are basically joined at the hip, and we know who Jasper should look at if he knows what's good for him." It was Alice's turn to squirm in her seat. "Mike will be pining for Jessica, which leaves Tyler and Edward to moon over Lauren's perfect body." I was spewing shit through my teeth, but everyone in the car seemed to enjoy it; Jessica beamed and Lauren apparently felt good enough about herself to suddenly insist,

"Well, I think I can guarantee that won't be true, though."

"What won't?"

"I mean, Tyler probably will," she laughed confidently. "But I hear Edward prefers brunettes . . ."

I screwed my face up as Jessica giggled in the front, feeling like I was on the outside of a joke, "What's that supposed to mean? We're talking about the same Edward, right? Around six feet tall, wild hair, green eyes, pronounced jawbone?"

"I assume my little brother is the only Edward in Forks," Rosalie sniffed, and the awkward silence returned. I guess all of us had sort of forgot he was her little brother, which we shouldn't, because really they were quite a bit alike. Rosalie was prissy and elitist and liked to look down her nose at people – this much I had picked up jus from being around her in school or when we were at the Brandon household at the same time.

What had Jessica meant about Rosalie's brother? I thought about Edward Cullen, the quiet brooding heartthrob, to pull random words from the gossip that circulated about him at school. As antisocial as he was gorgeous, Edward was known to skip class and hadn't set foot in the cafeteria once since we became seniors and gained off-campus lunch privileges. All the girls, it seemed, had at one point harbored crushes on him, and he was clearly aware of this and used it to his advantage. I hadn't ever seen him flirting, but there were rumors. Mike had once told me Edward could get a free meal simply by smiling at the waitress. Occasionally our social circles overlapped – after all, he was good friends with Jasper, and since Alice and Jasper were maybe sort of becoming a thing, he sat with Jasper, who sat with us during assemblies. But that was about it. Edward and I had only interacted once.

Lauren suddenly leaned in and whispered, "Let's just say that the rumor is Edward Cullen has a bit of a thing for you . . ."

This was so nonsensical that I laughed outloud. Fortunately, we had pulled up curbside and Rosalie had already stepped out, kindly popping the seat up for those of us crammed in the backseat to file out.

Alice grabbed my arm as soon as we had straightened and added quietly, "They aren't lying. I've heard the same thing."

"That isn't even logical to joke about."

"I'm not joking! Apparently you said something to impress him."

I shook my head, "The only time I've even talked to him was in Euro-history when we had to debate colonialism."

"Well who won?"

"I did. I convinced the board that Columbus was right to go in and slaughter the natives. Not exactly my proudest victory . . . Anyways, honestly, who's spewing this bull?"

"If you must know, Jasper told me. We were talking about you . . ."

I rolled my eyes, "Well then either it's a joke or Edward should pick his friends better."

Alice huffed and crossed her arms, "Well, if you're going to be like that."

Yes, I was. The idea of Edward Cullen, handsome aloof Edward Cullen, harboring any sort of interest in me was beyond preposterous. Any guy who turned down Tanya Denali, as everyone knew he had, clearly had some unheard of expectations. The idea that I, plain ol' Bella Swan, would even appeal to him was tragically laughable at best.

I shook my head, "You're on crack, Al," and felt grateful we were close enough that the conversation was over.

The boys were waiting for us down the sidewalk a bit near the beginning of the rows of shops. Emmett, Mike, and Tyler were loudly recapping the game, while Ben was staring intently down at this phone – waiting for a text from Angela if my guess was any good. Without meaning to, my eyes jumped to the remaining two, Edward and Jasper. Edward leaned against a low concrete wall, his arms crossed and his eyes on the ground as he nodded at something Jasper was muttering. He glanced up at our approach, his eyes jumping to my face – a pure coincidence that made me flush and stumble on a crack on the sidewalk.

"Oh, Bella," Alice laughed, grabbing my arm, all smiles and giggles now that Jasper was here.

"I thought you girls might be skipping out on us," Emmett bellowed, wrapping his arms tightly around Rosalie's waist and giving her a deep kiss. I'd always secretly found it strange to see such a giant boyish guy so stricken by a girl. They were sort of an odd pair.

Before I could retort anything, Lauren shot me a grin oozing with insincere affection, and announced, "No, we were just talking about sex appeal and beauty. Bella's in need of a super sexy costume."

"Wo-oah! Does somebody need to get laid?" Tyler asked me, stepping forward to nudge me in the ribs. I was doubly mortified: the physical contact on top of the actual comment. Tyler and I had gotten to be pretty good friends, and it wasn't out of character for him to say something like that, but still.

My cheeks got even redder as I insisted emphatically, "No."

"Yeah, Bella wouldn't have to put on a sexy costume for that," Alice assured everyone.

"I'm . . . not really going to thank you for that, Alice," I insisted, wanting desperately for the topic to change.

"This is Bella's first Halloween party since she was a little girl," Jessica explained, grabbing my hand. Her affection towards me was apparently high at the moment, probably because Mike had not spoken to me yet. This was how Alice and I usually theorized, anyways. "We just want to make sure it's memorable."

Before I could beg everyone to move on, Rosalie saved me day and asked, "How late is this store open?" Before I could smile gratefully at her, she added, "Especially if we're going to need the time to find something for Bella." The implication that it would take a long time to find something suitable for me made me frown, but Jessica dragged me forward before I could say anything.

The costume shop was overwhelming. Feathers, spandex, velvet, and polyester spilled out of the solitary door, and space didn't become any more abundant once you squeezed past the seven-foot stuffed grizzly bear just inside the door. Racks pressed against each other, dwarfed beneath the heats and wigs and various accessories dangling from the walls. I honestly feared for my life, afraid at any second a shelving unit would crash down and trap me beneath a mountain of tiaras, witch hats, and fedoras. What was even more likely, I might trip and impale myself on a plastic gladiator sword. I planted my feet firmly with each step and did my best to move slowly and carefully, but this was hard when the entire store seemed like a giant trap. A bull in a china shop – or Bella in a costume shop.

"So do we all need costumes?" Lauren asked, already thumbing through a rack. She pulled out a skimpy Little Bo Peep costume and held it up to herself, turning to Jessica questioningly. I pretended to vomit into a captain hat, which made Alice and Jasper snicker.

"Except you, right Edward?" Emmett asked. He was already wearing a bright purple pimp hat, the rim knocking into Rosalie when he turned to his friend.

"Oh, what are you going as?" Alice asked.

Edward had his hands in his pockets, perusing the wall of hats, but turned to smile at Alice and confess, "It's a closely guarded secret. Sorry." Standing behind Alice as I was, some of the cast-off of his smile landed on me, and I was again reminded of the absurdity of Lauren and Alice.

"Dude, I'm going as a pirate," Tyler cheered, pulling the captain hat out of my hands and perching it atop his dark head. "What do you think, Bella?"

"Well then I'm going as a ninja," Mike retorted. "The epic battle will continue."

"Ninjas would win," Jessica assured him.

Emmett made a face, "No way. Pirates."

"Ninjas," Jasper agreed.

"Pirates," Edward answered Jasper's plea for agreement with a shrug.

Alice giggled, "Ninjas."

I heard their debate but was too busy hoping to find something before I had to rely on their help. I held a piece of a costume up, then gasped with horror and shoved it back, realizing it actually was meant to be the entire costume. There was an adorable pin-up girl lingeri set beside it, though. Too bad I was entirely too modest to wear something so risqué; I had always thought the pin-up girls were about as feminine and sexy as I was not.

"Bella?"

"Huh?"

"Pirates of ninjas?"

"Oh. Pirates," I shrugged, not even having to think about it.

"But why?" Mike demanded, crossing his arms as though I had just said something extremely stupid.

I bit my lip then pointed out, "Well how many ninjas do you know that get the girl in the end?"

"Uh . . ."

"Exactly."

Coincidentally, Mike decided not to go as a ninja. The browsing continued. Alice, Jessica, and Lauren easily found armloads of possibilities for themselves, and then turned their attention to Angela and me. I was glad I didn't have to suffer alone, at least. Apparently all the costumes I selected were too prudish, too silly, or too unflattering. Apparently, now that I was eighteen and officially an adult, I needed to start dressing it, which meant showing as much skin as legally allowed.

"Try this," Rosalie suddenly suggested, handing a sailor costume to me. She had kept apart from us pretty much the entire trip, but I had no reason to refuse her now, so I let her balance the outfit on top of the armload the others had found for me. When everyone had enough to try on, we made our way back to the two dressing rooms. The boys went first, just to make sure important parts of their costumes fit. Tyler stayed with the pirate theme, but Mike decided on a doctor outfit he would gorify with loads of blood. Ben opted for Death, and Jasper was apparently going to the marine route. Emmett had ditched the pimp hat, at Rosalie's suggestion, for a red silk robe, ala Hugh Hefner.

"Classy," Alice teased, then quickly grabbed my arm and yanked me into a dressing room.

At Lauren's and Jessica's insistence, the routine became that once your costume was on, you strutted your stuff in front of the guys to see what they thought, from a male point of view. Then the other girls would either veto or agree with this. The first few costumes I tried on I utterly refused stepping out of the safety of the dressing room in. The devil costume was so tight my chest was literally popping out; the poodle-skirt made me look like I was twelve; the angel I had insisted on trying was A-line cut and made me look pregnant. A pregnant angel. Perfect.

By the time Alice had settled on a playfully sexy fairy costume, and Angela had convinced Jessica and Lauren (which much help from Ben) that her flapper costume was fine, everyone was waiting on me. That only made things worse as I slipped into the last costume, the one Rosalie had picked for me.

"All right, Bella, out with the last one," Alice ordered, and I heard her clap excitedly. I wanted to vomit.

"I don't know . . ."

"Oh, come on out and let us see," Jessica encouraged, and Mike mumbled something that made them all snicker. It was probably for the best I hadn't heard him.

Instead I glanced at my own ass in the mirror. It was good the costume included navy bloomers beneath the short pleated navy skirt or I would have been wardrobe-malfunctioning all over the place. The white button-up top could either be tied or tucked in, and of course I had it tucked in. The buttons stopped quite low but a red scarf knotted in just the right place so I didn't feel like I was completely hanging out for the world to see, and the short sleeves kept me from feeling too bare on top. The sleeves even had little cuffs with navy and gold buttons to match the buttons on the hips of the skirt. My collarbones and my arms didn't look too bad . . . Rosalie had added white thigh-highs with little red bows around the tops to hold up the frilly tops. Hell with it; I went ahead and put them on as well because I wasn't walking out quite so bare. They me feel like a hooker, but they did combat the shortness of the skirt . . . and then there was the sailors hat which was pretty fun and didn't look too bad settled on top of my curls.

Actually, when I looked at my reflection in the mirror, I didn't look too bad. It accentuated my hips and my chest without leaving me naked. It showed off my legs, which Lauren said was a good thing. I looked like a slut, but a classy slut.

"All right," I sighed, taking a deep breath and pushing the curtain aside. I stepped out and put one hand on my hip and saluted with the other. "What do you think?"

I was asking Alice, but it was Jessica who squealed, "I'd totally do you!"

"That's adorable," Lauren nodded approvingly. "And by adorable, I mean fuckable."

"I . . . I love it," Alice gasped, running up to me. "Does this—oh, you can tie this up, right? And show off—"

"Alice!" I squeaked, pulling the fabric out of her fingers. Well, my shirt was untucked now, but I was certainly not tying it up to show off my stomach.

Angela smiled encouragingly at me while Lauren asked, "Boys?"

Mike and Emmett both gave thumbs up, while Jasper nodded and Tyler winked. My eyes trailed self-consciously around the faces. Rosalie was smirking, clearing enjoying her victory. Beside her, Edward's eyes clearly trailed up and down my body but he avoided eye contact. I felt the red creep across my chest and up my cheeks.

"Edward?" Lauren pressed, looking very pleased with herself as she leaned forward to look at him around Rosalie. "What do you think?"

Instead of answering Lauren, Edward finally made eye contact with me and asked, "Are you trying to get laid at the party?"

"No," I insisted, glaring quickly at Alice.

"Then you can't wear that."

"What? I don't get—"

"Because you're screaming 'fuck me' right now." This was our grand first conversation, other than the debate. Everyone else found his appraisal hysterical, and some even applauded while Lauren cheered, "Sold!" I continued to stare at Edward in shock, though, which quickly turned to suspicion at the impish grin he flashed me. In that simple grin, I knew the girls and Jasper were full of it. Edward wasn't harboring any kind of secret affection for me. He was sitting there making fun of me. He was just teasing me like he would tease any other girl. I suppose I felt some small thrill that he apparently didn't find me too awkward, I mean, that he thought me worthy of teasing like any other girl. But it was a disappointing conclusion to the idea that I had never let myself really believe: that Edward Cullen saw me as anything more than the girl on the fringe of his world.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The night of the party, I had already arranged it with Charlie to spend the night with Alice. I think he vaguely knew about the party, but it was more of a don't ask, don't tell thing. He gave me some warnings, a mini-lecture about making good decisions, but that was it. I drove myself to Alice's and the two of us dressed there at my begging because I didn't want Jessica and Lauren turning themselves loose on my hair and make up. This thrilled Alice, who had done her research on 40s hairstyles. When I looked in the mirror, I was genuinely impressed and happy . . . until she pulled out a pair of shiny red heels.

"No."

"Oh come on, Bella. They're perfect!"

"I will kill myself!"

"You won't. I'll make sure you won't fall. You can wear your converse to Lauren's, but then you're wearing the heels to the party and that is not up for discussion."

Going to Lauren's was slightly pointless, but she insisted. She wanted us girls to show up together, and it also meant fewer designated drivers. Alice had already been working on me all week that I needed to relax and go crazy since the boys would make sure we got back to her house safely. I didn't know that I felt comfortable trusting my safety to the boys, much less while under the influence.

When we arrived, Ben opened the door for us, the only one of the boys willing to wait and ride over with us girls. Really the boys just didn't want to sit around twiddling their thumbs for the lengthy preparation process. I didn't blame them; it was another reason Alice and I had dressed at her house. He went back to watching the television room while we stumbled up the stairs to Lauren's room. It was hot in the house so I pulled off my coat as soon as we were inside.

Angela gasped, "Bella, you look amazing! The boys are going to be falling at your feet all night."

"Ow ow!" Alice teased, slapping my ass as she slid past me. I yelped and glared at her but she just winked playfully.

"You know, Bella, I bet if you asked Edward to fuck you, he would," Sarah Henler commented off-handed. I didn't know her well at all other than that she was Lauren's cousin; a sophomore, she usually kept with her own clique. Now she was pressed against the mirror, carefully applying eyeliner, so she missed my wide-eyed gape. She hadn't been at the costume shop to hear his comment . . . so probably she was just referencing the rumors – not the rumors about me, the rumors about him. Because of his ambiguous link with senior sexpot Tanya Denali, his lack of other relationships at school, and the ease with which older women fell under his spell, there were constantly rumors about him and nameless college girls. He never denied anything.

Lauren snorted, "I don't think she would even have to ask for it. Just bite her lip and he'd be kissing his way up her legs – I mean, Jess, you saw how he looked at her at the costume shop. Like he was going to lunge forward and devour her."

Jessica giggled and admitted, "No offense, Bella, but I don't get it. It's not like you really are putting out or anything . . . if he doesn't make a move, you sure won't." I resented her tone and sat up straighter. I wasn't completely incapable. Maybe I'd never had a boyfriend before or anything, but if I wanted to, I mean . . . I could be seductive!

And just like that, my temper fizzled out. Really? Seductive, Bella? I'm as sexually adept as an octopus. Awkward octopus, that's me.

"That said, you should totally go for it if he tries to start something," Lauren suggested. "For our sake if nothing else. Can you imagine? Edward Cullen!"

"Well, unfortunately for Edward Cullen, Bella isn't that type of girl," Alice quickly insisted, grabbing my arm as though she were my knight and I her delicate princess whose honor needed defending. "No matter how pretty the boy is. And really, you girls are making a big deal out of nothing. If my brother can date Rosalie, then why shouldn't Edward Cullen be attracted to Bella? I think it makes perfect sense." I appreciated her defense, even if I certainly didn't think that was the case.

Jessica just giggled, "That's right, Bella. Make him work for it. Especially because he's pretty. He needs to learn he's still going to have to work for what he wants."

"She's just glad because if you're tied up with Edward she can work on Mike," Alice muttered, which made me laugh. That was very true. I knew for a fact Jessica had harbored a deep crush on Edward for as long as she'd known him, and only managed to shove it aside for Mike because Mike was at least somewhat more attainable for her.

"Why don't we go keep Ben company until time to go?" Angela suggested, and I would have thrown my arms around her shoulder with gratitude if I wasn't afraid of crimping the feathers dangling from her hair. And I never had been really big on hugs.

When finally it was time to go, we piled into Ben's and Lauren's cars and made the short drive to an unfamiliar house.

"Does this mean we're stranded if Ben and Angela leave without us?" I whispered to Alice, clutching her arm as she helped me walk in my heels. She was so tiny, and I was now even taller than normal; this was not going to work.

She giggled, "Well I can get a ride home with Jasper, which means I guess you'd better choose between Mike or Edward . . ."

"Alice!" I hissed, giving her a shove. This was a bad move because as soon as she stepped away I teetered but somehow managed to regain my balance.

Lauren had purposely made us late so that by the time we arrived shortly after eleven, the party was in full swing. We stepped through the double front doors only to be assaulted by blaring music, loud laughter and yells, and the strong smell of vodka, beer, and rum.

"Hey baby, can I take your coat?" I jumped as the voice right at my elbow, but it was just Mike, who laughed at my shock. "Impressive heels, Bella. But here, I'll take your coat." I didn't argue, just slid it off and handed to him, trying to ignore his eyes. I could feel where they trailed, like a snail leaving its gooey trail all down my torso and legs. I suppose Jessica had assumed he was taking all of our coats because she slid hers off, but he brushed past her without a second glance.

I cringed for her but was unprepared for the bitterness in her voice when she suddenly looked me up and down and snorted, "Well, I suppose when Hester Prynne finally lets the girls out to play." I gasped; Alice gasped.

Tyler laughed, insisting, "Okay, girls, let's wait until you're effectively drunk before the cat fights start."

Mike reappeared, having missed Jessica's comment and offered, "Bella, a drink? We've got . . ." I was still gaping at Jessica and her eyes narrowed. What was her problem! I hadn't done anything to encourage Mike, so it wasn't fair for her to stand there and take things out on me.

So I did something I certainly didn't expect of myself. Blame it on the noise or the costume; I was superman in costume. I let my claws out. Putting my hands on his upper arms, I grinned, "Sure, chief. Lead the way." Then, not wanting to be too mean to Mike, I pulled my hands back and looped my arm through Alice's as Mike led us through the house to the kitchen. The counters were covered with various bottles of liquors, a bowl of limes, bottles of soda, and a dozen towers of red and blue solo cups. Four coolers were packed with ice and cans of beer, and more boxes were pushed against the far wall.

"Please tell me that this means you're going to drink," Alice pleaded. "I don't want to be the only one." I had been going back and forth. It wasn't that I had never had alcohol before. I had gotten drunk once but it had been with my mom – which I didn't share with people, of course. Typically, back in Phoenix, if I even went to parties at all, it was as designated driver and I just wound up taking care of everyone and trying to keep things from getting broken. It wasn't much fun, hence why I had never been a big fan of the party scene.

Well why the hell not? Maybe it would help me forget that my ass was practically hanging out of my dress, my legs were bare except for thigh-highs, I was showing more cleavage than I had since I'd had cleavage, and I was balanced precariously on bright red heels. Maybe alcohol will make me love my body, said the whore.

"All right, what are we having?" I sighed, leaning against the counter to keep from falling. The first thing they gave me was a shot of Jaeger, which tasted like licorice that had soaked in rubbing alcohol. It burned my nose and eyes as I knocked it back at the same time as Mike and Alice. "Wow."

"No?"

"It wasn't too bad."

"Okay, try a shot of this then," Mike suggested, pouring an amber liquid into the shot glass. When I lifted an eyebrow, he explained, "Spiced rum. Cap'n Morgan to be exact. Girls tend to like rum better than Jaeger." So the three of us knocked those back as well, but this just tasted like straight rubbing alcohol. I felt like I'd buried my nose between Alice's toes while she gave herself a pedicure.

The look on my face must have said it all because Mike laughed, "Ok, not a rum girl. Of course not."

"Oh, Jasper's here!" Alice squeaked, suddenly gripping my arm with an alarming strength one wouldn't expect from her.

I rolled my eyes, "Well go talk to him." She looked at me wide-eyed, then sprinted off, her gossamer wings flapping behind her. I turned to Mike but he had mysteriously disappeared.

"He said he would be right back. Wanted to go say hey to one of his buddies," the guy on the other side of the island explained. I hadn't noticed him before. "Another shot?" I started to turn him down but what the hell. I wasn't even feeling the alcohol yet except for a burning in my nose and eyes, and I was still all too aware of my own ass. I felt up the back of one leg with the other and cringed, then nodded.

"But no more spiced rum."

"Malibu maybe?" he suggested, coming around to pull up the white bottle. He grinned at my from beneath long blonde hair pulled back in a stunted ponytail, his dark blue eyes watching me closely. Not bad looking at all. After pouring shots for both of us, he nodded, "Bottoms up," and we knocked them back. Malibu was much better than the spiced rum, though the sweetness felt thick in my mouth and down my throat.

"It's so sweet," I made a face. "But not bad . . ." He poured another shot without me asking, we knocked those back, and then I decided that was quite enough.

"The name is James, by the way. James Stevens."

"Bella Swan."

"Well it's a pleasure to meet you, Bella. I don't think I've seen you around before . . ."

"Oh, I just moved here in September."

"That explains it. I graduated two years ago. Go to the same school as Rosalie in Seattle—"

"How many have you had," a little fairy suddenly piped into my ear, her chin resting on my shoulder.

"Um . . . four?" I had to look at James to confirm, which clearly meant it was time for a break. They had just all happened very quickly.

"Three for me. Careful . . . I don't want you puking in my bed tonight."

"Oh, we'll have plenty of other things to do beside puke," I giggled, then let my jaw drop open. Had I just said that?

She laughed and clapped her hands, "You're going to be drunk!"

"I didn't mean to."

"It's okay. Really, the boys will make sure we get home safely."

"Well that's a great idea, whoever thought it up," I snorted. "Let's go to a party scantily clad, drink copious amounts of alcohol, and then trust our well-being to boys whom we know don't have good intentions."

"Bella Swan, I will make sure you get home safely if need be," James suddenly offered, gently touching my forearm. "Just yell my name if you need me. Bitter lemon?" He slid a drink closer to me.

"Uh huh! Likely story," Alice snorted, then all but dragged me away from James's laughter. But not before I pulled the drink from the counter. I might have winked at him; I'm really not sure, because I was beginning to feel like I was watching myself from the couch with a slight time-delay.

"There you are. Went sprinting off pretty fast," Jasper greeted, kissing Alice on the cheek. He grabbed her hand, a clear effect of however much alcohol he had already consumed, but she didn't seem to mind at all.

Instead she sighed, "I had to go rescue Bella. Boys are already trying to steal her away from me."

"Not surprising," he smiled at me, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze. "Pleasure to see you, Bella, always."

"You too, Jasper."

"We were just trying to decide if we're safe because I can't remember if Ben and Angela are giving us a ride home and we might not be safe with the way boys are eying Bella here," Alice tried to whisper.

Jasper kissed the back of her hand and assured her, "I will make sure you get home safe. As will my dear friend Edward and your charming brother Emmett, who are both here somewhere . . . Emmett might be throwing up, I'm not sure . . . but I don't even know if Edward is even drinking tonight . . ."

The mention of Edward made my stomach do some strange acrobatic move, or maybe it was the four shots I had tossed down my throat in rapid succession. To alleviate it, I demanded, "But Jasper, why are you talking to me when you could be dancing with Alice?" He grinned like he hadn't thought of this and dragged her off, and she mouthed 'thank you!' to me before turning to face him with a dazzling grin.

Then more weird stuff started happening. When some random guy grabbed my hand to dance with him . . . I did. I allowed myself to be pulled into the center of the living room where a bunch of drunk teenagers were grinding and twitching to the music. Even tipsy – I'd admit to that by this point – I thought it was hysterical. No one was in rhythm at all. The good news was that everyone was so tightly packed that I really didn't have to worry about falling off my heels. I was held up from all sides by writhing bodies. Any time a guy began to get the slightest bit too touchy-feely, I just had to turn a bit and suddenly I was dancing with a whole new guy. It was something I would never have the guts to do while sober, but with alcohol beginning to soak into my brain, I felt fine.

It was a surprisingly long time before I finally needed to sit down. My feet were aching and my legs felt like rubber. My cheeks were flushed and I could feel the beads of sweat rolling down the back of my neck. Gross. Besides, my head was really beginning to spin a bit from the heat and the alcohol; lights were brighter, noises louder, and everything so much funnier. I spotted Jasper across the room, and probably Alice was still there dancing with him, and certainly I didn't want to interrupt that. Instead I stumbled my way back to the kitchen to grab a handful of pretzels from the bags strewn about the kitchen table. Jessica and Lauren were both there, talking animatedly to James as he mixed some drinks in the blender.

I winced at the sound, which was what drew Lauren's attention to me. She giggled, "Well hello, sexy," and held her arms out for me to come closer. Wanting to hug me: a clear sign Lauren Mallory needed to be cut off. I tripped into her arms as she explained, "James, this is my duckling, Bella Swan."

"A gosling. Is that what you call a baby swan?" Jessica asked, screwing up her face in thought and tapping her chin.

"Your duckling?"

"I take credit for this," she insisted, motioning from my head to my toe like the Wheel of Fortune Alcohol Edition. "Bella's what some might call a prude . . . I didn't say it, Bella, but you should know what is said about you. But we got her all dolled up and now here she is, not half so prudish! Our swan!"

I gave James a desperate frown and he slid a margarita towards me, insisting, "Well the transformation is spectacular, Lindsay."

"It's Lauren."

"She doesn't look prudish at all. In fact, I'm stunned speechless"

"Wait, did you just call me an ugly duckling?" I began to ask, but suddenly James was around the island and taking my hand.

"Care to dance, Miss Swan?" Grinning like the cat that just got the canary, I accepted, loving the glares I felt Lauren and Jessica shooting at my back for stealing the boy they were talking to. I chugged the margarita as we walked, wincing as it gave me a brain freeze, which James noticed and laughed about. I stumbled; he caught me and helped me walk the rest of the way to the dance floor, even taking my glass and setting it down somewhere for me. I vaguely wondered if it would get broken, but then we were dancing –sort of. My skirt was already short enough, and his leg found its way right to my crotch, rubbing against me as he put his hands on my waist to keep me from falling. At first I thought it was his knee that my own leg kept bumping against, but when I realized exactly what it was, my eyes widened and my face flushed an even deeper crimson. By this point I wasn't doing much besides standing there, though, and it didn't occur to me to tell him that having his erection pressed against my thigh creeped me the hell out. Even alcohol couldn't make me forget my fear of the male body.

Awkward Octopus, that's me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The night continued with a certain amount of predictability, so that I couldn't for the life of me tell you what time anything happened. Everything blurred together: the drinks, the songs, the boys. I was groped by an inestimable number of faceless boys, but I wouldn't notice someone had pinched my ass until two minutes after the fact, and by that point it was anyone's guess. I danced mostly because it meant I didn't have to try and hold myself steady on my own legs, and because I drunkenly loved the attention. Always before I had shied away from the spotlight, but the alcohol somehow made me feel validated by the grotesque attention sent my way by equally drunk boys. Fucking ugly duckling my ass, I wanted to shout. Sexy Swan in the house!

I swear I don't think like that unless heavily under the influence.

Finally, though, I was drunk enough to accept that I had been looking for Edward all night and had not seen him. He had made himself scarce, but with the number of drunk college girls, my conclusion was that he was in one of the bedrooms upstairs, screwing her senseless. And I felt cheated. Though I had denied and still, even drunk, didn't think it possible . . . it wasn't fair. I looked good tonight. I looked somewhat like the sort of girl Edward Cullen might find attractive, and here I was, drunk and sexy, and he wasn't even around for me to stare at. Perhaps some small part of me had once admired him, once wondered what it would be like to receive attention from this high school legend, but I had never been one to dwell on pointless crushes. As a seven-year-old, as soon as my mom discovered I had a crush on a boy in my class, Dylan, I had sighed, "It's not to be" and gotten over it instantly. At seven! I was horribly serious as a child. Perhaps I was still horribly serious. The thought made me frown. Maybe if I wasn't so serious, Edward Cullen would have come to the party.

But so what if he hadn't come? What did I care? I didn't know him, and from what I had seen and heard of him, he was a moody womanizer. Not someone I would ever in a million years be interested in dating anyways. So why had I been looking for him all night? Because I was a stupid girl. Alcohol reduced me to the likes of Lauren.

I confessed this all to James later in the night, though he somehow thought I was talking about him. My feet were hurting badly enough that I couldn't keep dancing, and stood on the brick hearth of the fireplace, only just taller than James, who was trying to get me to leave with him. He kept tugging on my arm, offering to take me home, while I cited my inability to talk as the reason I couldn't leave with him, clutching the mantelpiece for balance. The room swam if I moved my head too quickly, and when I changed the direction of my eyes, my gaze lagged behind. He had his hands on my upper arms, trying to coax me to follow. Apparently, I found this extremely funny.

"No, no, I can't!" I giggled, shaking my head until my sailor hat fell off. "I can't leave without Alice."

"I'm sure she'll understand—"

"No, no, no," I pouted, sticking out my bottom lip. Even I could feel how theatrical I looked, but I couldn't do anything about it. His hands had moved to my waist and I could feel he was preparing to physically pick me up. "I'm sorry."

"But—"

"I believe she turned you down," a voice cut in, calm and silky amid the noisy chaos of the living room. My eyes widened as Edward suddenly appeared at my side, seemingly from thin air. Where had he been hiding all night?

"You!" I cried, smiling and pointing at him as though we were long lost friends. "What are you doing here?"

"Ah, it's good to see you, too? Woah!" In letting go of the mantel to face Edward, I lost my balance and pitched forward. Fortunately, Edward easily caught me against his chest and helped me stand upright again. "Careful there." I continued to wobble, though, so he held onto my elbows, and I felt tiny sparks where his fingertips brushed my skin, like he had candles instead of fingers. The image made me giggle and teeter and his grip tightened. I rested my own hands on his forearms and could feel his muscles twitch beneath my hands when I shifted. Really, there was nothing sexier in the world and I thought perhaps I should tell him that.

"That's really sexy."

"What is?"

"Too bad you didn't show up earlier. I'm much more fun when I can walk," I mused, looking forlornly down at my heels. It didn't even occur to me that James had wandered off, or maybe Edward had again told him to bug off; I'm really not sure. I sighed, "Stilettos and alcohol were not made for each other."

"Depends who's consumed the alcohol," he argued, giving me a crooked grin that showed off his teeth and his dimples. Dimples? He had dimples on either side of his mouth that showed only when he really smiled, and just the faintest of dimples in his chin . . . but that didn't make sense to me. Arrogant player assholes couldn't have dimples. The more alcohol I consumed, the less I apparently thought of him, constructing rich scandals in my mind of which he was guilty.

"Oh no!" I suddenly gasped, clamping my hand to my mouth. Not holding on to him anymore, I wavered again, and he stretched his fingers to lightly grip my ribs. Of course I noticed it.

"What oh no?"

"Shitfuck," I huffed, scowling at the floor. My swearing was getting worse; I had begun to combine curse words now.

"Excuse me?"

"I said I wasn't going to talk to you if I had more than a few drinks . . . well I didn't say it, but I thought it in my head," I tapped my forehead and squinted my eyes.

He just gave me the most confused look. It was endearing, the way his brow knitted and his eyes narrowed as he looked at me, possibly concerned for my sanity. He actually did look concerned. Once again, it didn't fit the Edward in my head. I was too drunk to be a reliable witness.

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why did you decide that?"

"Because when I drink I just start to talk and talk . . . and I don't say anything I regret, I don't think . . . I don't know; I don't drink much. But I feel very honest and frank right now like I just want to answer questions. I don't think I'd tell other people's secrets but I might tell my own. Are you James Dean?"

He laughed and nodded, "Yes, I am. Very observant. But what is it you're afraid you'll let slip to me?" He gave me a look that now confused me. I couldn't quite put my finger on the expression.

"Oh, I don't know . . . do I sound like a chipmunk right now? I feel like I do."

"You don't."

"My mom's parents were from the south and I feel like I sound like them when I've been drinking; is that even possible? . . . not that I have a whole lot of experience with it . . . See? I can't stop the word vomit."

"It's charming."

"No it's not, it's stupid," I giggled. "I sound like Jessica."

He choked on his laughter then, his shoulders shaking as he assured me, "I promise you aren't that bad. You have a lovely voice."

"You probably shouldn't compliment me, either, because apparently I get really really flirty. James and Mike are probably both horribly confused . . ." I admitted with what I hoped was an apologetic half-smile. "I swear I wasn't going to leave with him! But I guess I forget that I don't know how to flirt . . ."

"Flirty isn't bad."

"Thirteen-year-old girl flirty is bad," I insisted. "You know, like . . . 'like oh my gosh, you're so hot, tee hee,'" I mimicked, giggling obnoxiously and twirling my finger in my hair. Even mocking it made me frown, and I pulled my hand away. "See? I don't want you to hear me sounding like that."

"You aren't like that yet," he assured me.

"Well don't let—shit, I'm talking too much. I think I drank too much . . . I told Alice this was a bad idea. Shit, shit. And I'm swearing a lot too . . . and I never swear like this! Like a—"

"Like a sailor?" he supplied, looking thoroughly amused. Then the unidentifiable expression was back.

He suddenly stooped to pick up my hat and had hold of my arms again before I could fall. He set the hat on top of my head, then brushed back some of the hair behind my ear. It was such a tender gesture that suddenly . . . I wanted to kiss him. Not just kiss him. I wanted to push him back against the wall and leave love bits down his neck and along his collarbone. I wanted to bite his earlobe and – but I had decided before drinking that I should avoid him, and already here I was carrying on the most inane conversation with him ever.

"So do you confess everything when you drink?"

"Well no, not . . . but you keep looking at me like that and it makes me feel like I have to keep talking and say something really clever."

"Looking at you like what?"

"Like that," I insisted, pointing as though he could look at his own face.

"I'm not looking at you like anything."

"Yes you are! It's kind of scary. But a good scary. But scary."

"Scary?"

"Yes like . . . oh, I know!" I gasped, my face erupting into a smile as I finally put my finger on it. "It's the look you give someone right before you kiss them – but don't kiss me!" I interrupted myself, quickly pressing my fingers to his lips as though he had already begun to lean in.

He smiled against my finger - it felt like the faintest of kisses- then pulled my hand down and promised, "I wasn't going to kiss you." I looked down where he continued to hold my hand, his other hand loosely gripping my other elbow.

"Good. Because – wait, why not?" I demanded.

He laughed and shook his head, "There's no winning with you, is there?"

"Well . . . I want you to want to kiss me, but not actually do it."

"Fair enough."

"Shit, I shouldn't have said that."

"You're doing fine," he assured me. "Nothing embarrassing yet."

"Just wait. It'll come. I can feel it sitting at the back of my throat: word vomit."

"Just as long as it's word vomit and not any other sort of vomit." I cringed and he laughed again, a soothing sound that washed over me and wrapped around my shoulders, forcing me to slow down. At least I was amusing him, and probably doing a better job of it drunk than I ever could sober. "Besides, if you do say something embarrassing, I promise to pretend like it never happened, and then you probably won't remember it in the morning anyway."

"Unfortunately, I'll remember every excruciating detail," I lamented with a heavy sigh. "That's why you can't kiss me."

"What's why?"

"Because I will remember it but girls . . . I'd question it, because I'm not really the random make-out session kind of girl. Maybe I'd convince myself right now that I am because it's—but really I'm not, and then you wouldn't remember it so I would be over-analyzing for nothing and now I can never talk to you. Not that we talk much anyways . . . or at all . . ."

"And why wouldn't I remember it?" he asked. It felt like I was being interviewed and that annoyed me but I couldn't stop answering his questions, no matter how hard I tried to seal my lips. I thought about his question; I had assumed he was drunk. But when I looked at him, he very clearly was not. At least I didn't think so. He stood perfectly at ease on his feet, didn't slur his speech, and hadn't burped or hiccoughed once. But that was a very stereotypical image of drunkenness. Maybe he was just a put together drunk.

"You're not drunk," I stated.

He shook his head slowly, giving me the amused crooked smile again, "No, I'm not drunk."

"But that just confuses me!"

"That I'm not drunk?"

"Well you can't drunkenly kiss someone if you aren't drunk." The statement was rather irrelevant, even redundant, but he just laughed. I frowned, realizing that if he wasn't drunk, he was simply the sober guy laughing at the drunk girl. At the drunk girl, not with.

"And that, Bella, is why I will not be kissing you." It was the first time he had said my name. I noticed it immediately, the way it sounded rolling out from between his lips, his tongue pressing against the back of his teeth. I was obsessed with his teeth. I wanted to run my tongue along them. I gasped at the image. "What?"

I frowned, "I don't know exactly what you mean because you could mean that you'd have to be drunk to kiss me or you could mean that you want to kiss me but won't because I'm tipsy and you're not."

"I think you're a bit beyond tipsy at this point."

"I'm not! Or . . . maybe . . . damnit."

He just gave my arms a squeeze and assured me, "Don't worry. No guy would have to be drunk to kiss you unless it was just a matter of getting his nerves up." My face twisted into what was probably a gruesome mixture of confusion and amazement. Was he joking? Or was that a genuine compliment? What were we talking about again?

Nervous to change the subject, I whined, "Shit these heels hurt. Never wear heels, Edward Cullen. Not if you're going to be standing a lot."

"I'll . . . uh, keep that in mind," he promised. "Tell you what, why don't you come with me and you can sit for a bit." He had looped my arm through his for support and led me a couple steps before I abruptly stopped.

"Wait," I gasped. "I can't just go with you. Where are you taking me?"

"You're a smart girl, Bella. But we're just going to the kitchen."

"Oh. Okay, that's okay. I can't leave without Alice, though, you know? That's my mantra."

"Right, girl code. Would it be easier to walk if you took your shoes off?" he suddenly asked as I stumbled again.

"Um, yes? But I don't know what's on these floors. I like to be barefoot; I was always barefoot at home in Phoenix but it's dangerous. I could step on a nail or something. I've done that before. And needles twice. And once an open safety pin. I get hurt a lo—you can tell me to shut up whenever you want. It won't hurt my feelings. I know I'm talking too much."

"No, no," he shook his head. "Keep talking. You're entertaining. And if you don't talk, I'll have to talk, and I'll most likely say something stupid."

"Only you can't blame it on alcohol . . . I can't imagine you saying something stupid, though. I wonder where Alice is?"

"You're very concerned for her and yourself, aren't you? You're too responsible for a drunk."

"Safety first!" I cheered. "Be wise, don't compromise. No glove, no love." This made Edward throw his head back to laugh louder than he ever had thus far except maybe about the Jessica comment, showing those pearly teeth and the pinkness of his throat.

We had reached the kitchen and he offered, "Here, let me find a chair for you to—"

"Hey, I can sit on the counter like anyone else," I interrupted, clumsily pulling myself onto the counter. It put me on direct eye-level with him, which was nice; he was so tall I usually had to crane my neck to see up his nose. Now I could stare into his eyes, a vibrant green that seemed to shimmer under the lights. I watched him closely as he pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and grabbed a bag of pretzels, opening both before thrusting them at me.

"Drink, eat, it'll help settle your—"

"I know what to do," I insisted, taking a deep swig of the water. I could feel his eyes on my throat as I drank and became all too aware of the flirtiness of my position, sitting on the counter in my almost non-existent skirt with my knees apart, Edward standing in front of me. How easily he could take a step forward and be pressed up against me, be wrapped up in my legs, be tracing circles along my collarbone with his tongue.

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Sorry! I was thinking dirty thoughts. I mean – fuck," I laughed at myself. "Oh, it's like the filter is just gone."

He grinned like an older teacher humoring their pupil, "That's okay. You can think all the dirty things about me that you want; I don't mind."

"Who said they were about you?" I quipped, lifting an eyebrow in what I hoped looked seductive and not just uncomfortable. I looked up at him as I took another sip of my water and kicked my legs a bit on either side, feeling like I needed to be moving. The startled expression on his face made me laugh this time. Was he uncomfortable? Could Edward Cullen be made to feel uncomfortable?

"Well, ah . . ." he let out a huff of air and ran his fingers through his glorious hair. "I guess no one."

"You know," I began, but then forgot what I was saying when he looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to continue. There was something so endearing about his perfect face, so captivating about the heaviness of his brow over such bright eyes. His jaw was magnetic north and my eyes couldn't stay away. I wanted to do dirty things to him and then talk to him about . . . oh, I don't know, art or music or movies or something. I wanted to screw his mind. And then do more dirty things to him.

"I know . . ."

"You aren't what I expected, Edward Cullen."

"Oh? And what did you expect?"

"An arrogant asshole womanizer." As soon as I said it, I gasped and clamped my hand to my mouth, staring at him wide-eyed and spilling some of my water on my lap in the process. The alcohol was beginning to settle in my system and I was becoming a bit more aware of the inappropriateness of the things I said. "Shit, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that; I take it back. You can't ask me things like that right now!"

My answer didn't seem to be what he had expected, and he looked slightly taken aback, but then smiled lightly, "I guess that's fair. Maybe it's true."

"Arrogant, an asshole, or a womanizer?"

"I don't know. Maybe all three," he guessed, looking up at me with what could only be considered a sheepish grin, like I had discovered his secret past.

"I mean – I shouldn't have said that. I don't even know you. That's just kind of the impression I got . . . you know, from what people say and just from seeing you and . . ."

"What people say—"

"No, well, you know. Girls want you, boys want to be you . . . you and Tanya Denali, and . . . I don't know, maybe it's possible to be extremely good looking and really nice at the same time, but I think it would be very rare," I offered, reaching out to poke at the sunglasses dangling from the neckline of his shirt. I pulled them off and tried them on, glancing around the dimmed kitchen.

He grinned, "Did you just call me extremely good looking?"

"As though you don't get told that every day of your life."

"Not by people who are intelligent enough to have opinions I respect." My eyes widened with surprise and I yanked the glasses off, poking myself in the eye in the process. He frequently used sentences that were too proper, too eloquent to fit with the typical speech pattern of high school boys. He was beautiful but he wasn't stupid and it annoyed the hell out of me.

My left shoe suddenly slipped off my foot and hit the tile floor, making me jump. Edward bent to pick it up but I told him not to bother, kicking the other one off as well.

"Ah, that feels so much better," I sighed, leaning back and letting my neck stretch as my eyes closed. My hat fell off again but landed on the counter beside me. I wiggled my toes and rotated my ankles. My feet felt so close to freedom that I couldn't deny them any longer. "Ugh, I can't wait to take these off," I groaned, opening my eyes to see Edward watching my face closely, his eyes narrowed. I slipped my hand under the elastic of one of the thigh-highs but Edward's hand was immediately on mine.

"You might want to leave those on."

"Why? It's just my legs. It's not like I'll be naked."

"I know, but—"

"But what?" I inquired, a surge of impishness rushing through me. I quirked my eyebrow; he avoided my eyes. I wasn't stupid. Had this been anyone but Edward Cullen, I would have known exactly why he wanted me to keep them on, and so why should Edward Cullen, logically, be any different? He wanted me to keep them on but really he wanted me to take them off; he was still a guy.

I was wrong. The alcohol was still strongly dominating my actions. It's the only way I could explain my next move: I pulled my right knee up to my chest and used my thumbs to slowly slide the stocking down my leg. I stared at my own foot, innocently pretending I couldn't see his eyes widening at each uncovered inch of skin, though he kept his gaze firmly on my other leg or alternately the floor. Did he actually gulp? Surely I couldn't be getting him so worked up simply by taking my stocking off, but the possibility was such an ego booster that I let my right leg casually and "accidentally" press against his body as I twisted on the counter to take off my left stocking. Once my legs were completely bare, I moaned and leaned forward to run my hands down my legs, wincing at the bump in the skin where the elastic had pressed.

"They squeeze right here," I explained, showing him the line. "It hurts when you rub the dent out. See? It's an actual dent!" I took his hand and pressed his fingers against the line on my thigh.

As soon as he realized his hand was touching my leg, he literally jumped back, turning to run his hands through his hair several times before wagging his finger at me, "You're cruel. Do you know that? You're a cruel woman. You're doing this on purpose."

"Doing what on purpose?" I retorted, making my eyes extra wide. Lauren had said my eyes – wait, was I trying to seduce Edward Cullen? No way! Awkward octopus is not capable of seduction. I laughed, "I told you I get flirty when I'm drunk."

"Well then it's good that I'm here and not some other guy . . . like that guy trying to kidnap you."

"No, I wasn't this flirty with him," I shrugged. I knew it was a confusing answer; let him mull it over. Let him wonder. Instead of explaining, I suddenly let out a big yawn, covering my face with my hands to hide the grotesque distortion of my features.

"Getting sleepy?"

"Yes. I think I'm ready to go home but I have to wait for Alice and I don't even know where she is."

"How about you sit here and I'll go find her for you?"

"Okay –no, wait! Edward!" I yelped, grabbing his arm as he turned to go. He froze. "You can't leave me. What if someone tries to kidnap me again?"

"No one is going to kidnap you."

"You're going to feel really bad if someone does."

With what I didn't think was real annoyance, he sighed, "All right, princess. Come with me, then. Am I going to have to carry you around, too?"

"No, you don't have to," I assured him, tossing my cap back on before sliding off the counter and stumbling a couple steps. I tried again but it wasn't any better; my normal clumsiness was suddenly magnified.

"But we don't want you stepping on any nails," he reminded me. "All right, then." He turned around and reached over his shoulders for my hands. And go figure, I let him, and then jumped up onto his back. I had never ridden piggy-back on a guy before. It made me feel small and dainty and feminine, and all too aware of his warm fingers gripping beneath my bare knees. I had my arms around his shoulders and every flex of his muscles sent tingles through my arms and down my back. At first I tried to keep my back straight and my head high, but my muscles were tired, and anyways I couldn't stop thinking about the pressure of my crotch against his back. So instead I rested my chin on his shoulder and wondered to myself if my hot breath creeping down his neckline did anything to him. His scent – a mixture of cologne, deodorant, and a natural boy muskiness – wrapped around me, combining with the alcohol to leave me completely dazed. I inhaled deeply, feeling like I couldn't fill my lungs enough with the intoxicating scented air. Heat from his body seeped into mine everywhere we touched and his hair rubbed against the side of my head. Surely I couldn't be affecting him the same way or he wouldn't be able to walk. I was beyond that.

Fortunately, it wasn't difficult to find Alice and Jasper, sitting together in the window seat in the dining room a little removed from all the noise, deep in discussion. When Edward approached with me clinging to his back, Alice bolted up with a worried expression, but I laughed at her concern.

"I'm okay, Mom! Those shoes had to go, though, or I – so this fine young gentleman gave me a ride. I mean . . . not a ride, but you know, a piggy back ride—"

"You should stop talking," Alice giggled, shaking her head. I had already warned her that the one time I'd been drunk with my mom, there was very little I hadn't said to the waiter, her, and her two friends that were with us. "How much have you had?"

"Ah . . . I don't kno—bitter lemons are really good!"

"Oh dear."

"And I've learned to like rum . . . Do you know I finally feel sexy in this costume?"

"Oh? Is that why you took half of it off?" she teased, reaching out to give my thigh a squeeze. I yipped and bucked against Edward's back; I could feel the groan in his chest through my arms but the music made it inaudible.

To cover up my awkward action, I snickered, "Oh, no, no, that was just to screw with Edward. I mean, not screw screw with him, but—"

"So are you girls ready to go home?" Edward interrupted.

I laughed awkwardly loudly this time, asking, "Was that your polite way of telling me to shut up? Good job! Asshole."

"I think it's definitely time to get this into my bed where I can do what I want with her," Alice teased, rubbing her nose affectionately against my arm.

"Are we invited . . ." Jasper mumbled, earning a playful slap in the chest from Alice. It occurred to me that they looked to be much closer . . . but neither was acting the least bit drunk.

I frowned, "Alice! Didn't you have anything?"

"Well, not since the beginning . . . Jasper and I just got talking, so, you know," she shrugged. My frown deepened that she had convinced me to drink only to abstain herself, leaving me to act the drunk fool alone. "I'm sorry! But this way . . . the better to take care of you in the morning when you're terribly hungover!"

I groaned, "I'm puking in your bed. I'm going to do it."

Jasper made a face, "Maybe we'll sit this one out after all." We made our way collectively to the room where Mike had tossed our jackets earlier, and Edward pointed out his jacket for me to pull up so that I had both our coats draped over my back. Jasper laughed that Edward looked like a two-headed hunchback. Alice kindly retrieved my abandoned footwear and the four of us dove into the cool night. Jasper's car, which I could identify nothing of except that it was black, was parked down the street a bit, and I silently listened to him talk with Alice until we'd reached it.

"All right, I'm letting you down," Edward warned, but I had already begun to slide down his back, gasping as my bare feet hit the cool concrete. He opened the door for me to climb into the backseat, then hurried around to the other side while Jasper and Alice settled into the front.

"You're awful cute when you're drunk, Bella," Alice beamed, watching as I craned my neck back to look up at the night sky through the rear window. It was too cloudy to make out any stars, but the moon glowed dimly through a thin patch.

I tried to find her face in the dark car, asking, "What?"

"I said you're cute."

"Oh. Well you're cute, too. But my hat is driving me crazy," I sighed, pulling it off and handing it to Alice as though she needed to be the keeper of all my things. She accepted it, adding it to the growing pile of my discarded items.

Jasper snorted, "Christ, doesn't take much to get you to strip, does it, Bella?"

"Actually, it took a lot of alcohol to get me this far," I argued, scooting down in the seat so that my head could rest against the back of the seat. I hadn't buckled my seatbelt, and when Jasper suddenly took a sharp turn, I flew across the seat into Edward's side. He helped me sit back up, but for some reason I stayed sitting in the middle as Alice and Jasper picked back up on the conversation they had been interrupted from.

I tried to listen like the good wingman, or observe Jasper's body language or whatever it is good girl friends are supposed to do, but the hum of the car and the passing lights flickering momentarily through the windows, the low radio behind me and the heat from Edward's body were too much to battle with. I could feel my eyes drifting closed and my head bobbed until I finally sighed, "Fuck it," and shifted to let my head fall against Edward's shoulder.

"Can I?" I whispered, already almost asleep.

I barely heard him whisper back, "Yes, you can."

Next thing I knew, Alice was gently shaking me awake, "Come on, Bella, we're home. Let's get you upstairs." I groaned and let Edward and Alice pull me out of the car, blinking against the cab light that flicked on when Edward opened his door. I was only faintly aware of waving goodbye to the boys as Alice slipped her arm around my waist and helped me stumble up the stairs, her eyes glued to the ground to watch for any nails or glass I might step on. She was paranoid.

She helped me change, literally pulling my costume off and slipping a tee and shorts on, giggling about me being her My-Size Barbie. I was certainly no Barbie, but I was too zombied out to argue, like I had OD'd on Nyquil and was now paying the price.

It wasn't until we had crawled into bed that Alice whispered, "Hey, Bella. You and Edward didn't . . . you know . . . I mean, I won't judge or anything, but I didn't see you most of the night—"

"No, we didn't have sex," I mumbled. "But . . . he may have kissed my finger." I stared at my finger in the dark as though a kiss would have left some sort of physical marker. "But only because I put my fingers on his mouth. He was really truly very nice. I wish he really is like he was tonight."

"Maybe he is. I mean, he and Jasper are really good friends, and Jasper wouldn't be friends with just anyone."

"No, I don't think he could be, because then I would want to kiss his neck." Even as I said it I knew it didn't make sense. I was dramatizing and combining thoughts.

Alice just laughed and kissed my cheek, "Goodnight, Bella. We can sleep in as late as we want tomorrow."

"Sure sure, good night."

True to her word, Alice held my hair back while I puked until my insides ached in the morning.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

After the spectacle I had made of myself at the Halloween party, I wondered if Edward and I were going to begin interacting in public. After all, I had given him quite the monologue when nothing was stopping me. The dirty thoughts were now pushed firmly to the back of my mind; just thinking about the things I'd had the audacity to think, much less say, made me blush. I was prepared to laugh it all off it he would.

I confessed to Alice that I had been ridiculously flirty with him, which she insisted was understandable given the alcohol and his good looks. She assured me she would have probably been even worse with Jasper, but of course, I couldn't imagine her being half so sexually awkward as I no doubt had been. At least I hadn't done anything with him, she pointed out, though this severely disappointed Lauren and Jessica when they finally cornered me about it Monday morning at school. Apparently, after Edward chased James off, James had hunted down Lauren, so now all was forgiven. Though I still hadn't forgotten that she called me an ugly duckling.

I saw Edward in the hall, lifted my hand to wave, and then buried my face in my locker when he strode past without so much as looking at me.

Of course. After spending two days analyzing everything that had been said and done, I had come to the absolute conclusion: It had entirely been a fluke. Sure, he had played the gentleman card at the party. He had saved me from the clutches of James, he had kept me from seriously injuring myself on the heels, and he had taken me straight to Alice when I got tired. He hadn't taken advantage of me, hadn't even copped a feel that I could remember. So he was a better guy than people gave him credit for, perhaps, but that didn't mean we were going to be chummy now. He hadn't said or done anything to show that he was even interested in hooking up, so I didn't even rank high enough to be considered as a conquest. All he had done was look out for me, maybe even as a favor to Jasper so that he could get some extra time with Alice. He had watched out for me like a stray drunk kitten. Worse, like the stupid drunk girl that made him laugh. He'd hung around me just because I made him laugh so much. I was the freakshow he couldn't take his eyes off of. Great.

If he'd had any attraction to me, he would have at least tried something, I had pointed out to Jessica, but he hadn't. And his absolute dismissal in the hall clearly meant he hadn't watched out for me in order to begin any new friendship, either. When we sat down in Euro-History, his desk caddy-corner in front of mine and Jessica beside me, his cold shoulder was even more evident. He didn't say a word, didn't glance back at me.

Jessica passed me a note as Mr. Washmond began his lecture: If nothing happened, why are you staring at him like you want to jump his bones?

Was I? I grimaced then quickly wrote back: I don't. Nothing happened. My wonderful drunk non-hook up.

She giggled and quickly scribbled back: You probably could have scored with James. He liked you more, but don't tell Lauren I said that.

I bit my lip, not sure I really wanted to be having this conversation with Jessica. But then what else was I going to do while Washmond droned out about the 100 Years War? I passed back: Yeah, my awkwardness really brings the boys running.

She had to bite her knuckle to keep from laughing out loud at that, but it was enough that both Edward and Eric in front of me glanced over their shoulders at us. She waited a minute before passing back: Don't worry, me and Lauren will teach you. But we'll start with someone a bit more in your league. Edward Cullen? What were you thinking?

I frowned, offended. Well sure, I knew he was out of my league – I knew that; she didn't need to rub it in. But anyways, he had been the one to find me. I tried to remind myself that Jessica wasn't a big fan of his because he had turned her down the year before, but it was still a stinging knock to me ego. I thought out my reply and had just begun to scratch it down when thick fingers suddenly yanked the piece of notebook paper out from under my pencil, breaking the tip.

"Miss Swan! How kind of you to bring some juicy gossip to share with the class," Mr. Washmond bellowed, strutting to the front of the class with our conversation clutched in his hand. "I'm sure we are all anxious to hear about the latest episode of Forks 98331."

Jessica looked appropriately horrified, but not half as horrified as I felt. My lungs froze in my chest and a thick lump lodged in my throat. Surely Mr. Washmond didn't mean to follow through on the threat he was infamous for . . .

He cleared his throat, adjusted his glasses, then rested on hand on his bulging belly as he read, "'If nothing happened, why are you staring at him like you want to jump his bones?" Kids began to snicker. "'Nothing happened, my wonderful drunk non-hook up.' Surely you weren't drinking, Miss Swan, your father being who he is. Let's see . . . 'You probably could have scored with James. He liked you more, but don't tell Lauren I said that.' Oh my, this just keeps getting better," he grinned, holding a finger up to his lips as though to remind the class not to tell.

I had never hated anyone in my life more than I hated Mr. Washmond at that moment.

"'Yeah, my awkwardness really brings the boys running. Don't worry, me and Lauren will teach you.' Well that's very kind of you, Miss Stanley. 'But we'll start with someone a bit more in your league. Edward Cullen? What were you thinking?'" I had sunk as low in my chair as I could possibly go, my face inflamed as the other students' twittering giggles became full-fledged laughter. At least Edward was kind enough not to turn around; I'm pretty sure a major blood vessel in my head would have exploded. I saw his jaw twitch but then couldn't bear to look at him any longer.

Mr. Washmond continued, "Well, Miss Stanley, that was not a very nice thing to say about Miss Swan. I'm sure Mr. Cullen is completely in her league if she so wished. But then, you'll have plenty of time to fill me in on all the missing details. Girls, please stay after class."

He then went back to the lecture but I didn't hear a word. The blood roared in my ears, and I was dizzy with embarrassment; there seemed to be twice as many lines on my notebook page as usual.

Mr. Washmond preferred before-school detentions, which Jessica and I would have the pleasure of attending for the next two days, though this was certainly nothing compared to the mortification that I bore the physical reminder of through next period. Even with the cold, I was still flushed and on the verge of tears when Alice came running over to me in the parking lot after school.

"Bella. Bella, please, I need a big favor. What's wrong?" she demanded as soon as I looked up and she saw the glassiness of my eyes.

"It's nothing – what's up?"

"But you're—"

I didn't feel like telling her the story here where anyone else might hear, so I shrugged, "It's nothing. I'll explain later. You need a favor?"

She nodded fervently and explained, a desperate edge to her voice, "We're supposed to meet Jasper at the coffee shop in ten minutes."

"What?!"

"Please don't be mad. I had to – I wanted to ask him out for coffee, but I panicked, so I said you and I were going and he should come so we can all study for Cooley's English test Friday."

"Al, I really need to just go home and—"

"Please, Bella, I am begging you. Do this for me and I will never ask you for anything ever again!"

"Oh don't lie to me, Alice."

"Please, Bella. Please, please, please, and I'll owe you big."

I sighed but had very little willpower to resist Alice when she went into begging mode. Besides, I did need to study, and perhaps watching her and Jasper make shy advances on each other would make me feel better.

Who was I kidding? Of course it wouldn't. But I relented and she hopped into the passenger seat of my truck; she lived close enough to school that she usually walked.

Within a few minutes we pulled into the parking lot of the only coffee shop and bakery of Forks. Mortification and shame had left and now I was just cranky, which Alice assured me would be cured by a cup of coffee, not knowing the full story. I saw the back of Jasper's head at one of the small tables we made our way towards; he turned to greet us, tipped off by—

Edward. Seated across from him, now standing to greet us, was Edward. I have never in my life been closer to peeing in my pants. I tripped and I wasn't even walking anymore; I had frozen at the first sight of him and my legs nearly buckled. It had been bad enough sitting through Euro-history with him in front of me, but there was no way I could now sit through a study session – no, not a study session. A double date. Two boys and two girls.

I turned frantically to Alice and hissed, "What is this? Some kind of joke?"

"What's the problem? You two got along so well at the Hallow—where are you going?"

"Home. Jasper can give you a ride." She grabbed my arm and I snapped, "Alice, I'm not sitting here with—"

"Bella, did he do something to you?" she suddenly looked extremely concerned, and I realized where her mind might have gone.

I shook my head, "No, he didn't do anything, but—"

"Alice, Bella, long time no see," Jasper grinned, giving Alice a tight hug and waving to me. I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. If he could hug her, why was she so uncomfortable going on a coffee date with him? This smelled like a set-up to me.

I glanced quickly at Edward purely out of curiosity. Had he been in on this? But he was frowning, scowling at the tiled floor with his hands clenched in his pockets. It didn't look like he had been. He appeared to have been tricked like me, and he looked as happy about it as I was.

Well that just angered me. Alright, so Washmond had read some embarrassing stuff out loud in class, but that meant Edward couldn't even be polite and say hello? He had already sat back down and wrapped his hands around his drink, not once making eye contact. I clenched my teeth and sent him a stare that was lost on the side of his head. What an ass. He had no reason to act like that; it was my role. It wasn't like he didn't know all the girls had crushes on him. He didn't have to be rude to me just because I might as well.

With a vindictive huff, I decided to stay. Good. I could make him uncomfortable. Alice and I ordered drinks and I sent Edward one more glare before pulling out the study guide Mrs. Cooley had given us for our approaching mid-term. Bella Swan, straight down to business. That's right, Edward Cullen, I wanted to hiss, I'm not gazing dreamily at you or thinking dirty thoughts now. I'm thinking about Latin root words and Lemon trees.

Alice and Jasper weren't oblivious that Edward and I weren't talking, but of course were helpless to fix it. So they ignored the elephant at the table with us, poking us constantly in the face with its thick trunk, and tried to be light-hearted and happy enough to rub off on us. They were animated and gave silly answers to questions to make each other laugh, or frequently got side-tracked until I brought the discussion back around to class, making sure we went through as many of the study guide questions as we could. I felt like the scary librarian, like I should have my hair in a bun and thin glasses on the end of my nose as I demanded focus and attention, scratching down answers that Alice would probably just copy later onto her guide anyways.

For his part, Edward remained mostly quiet and never made eye contact. Occasionally, if pressed by Alice or Jasper, he would voice an opinion or pose a question. I asked him a question once and he looked so skittish that I didn't dare ask again, lest he leap up and run from the coffee shop. Not that I would have minded, of course, but the sideways glares Alice kept sending me were insisting I stop behaving so strangely. Why wasn't she glaring at Edward! He was the one that had suddenly gone Oscar the Grouch on us all.

When at last we were cramped and sore from sitting at the table so long, we said our farewells, Alice literally bouncing into my truck while I glowered and jammed the key into the ignition.

"That was great!" she beamed. "Jasper asked me to go to dinner with him this weekend; did you hear that?"

"Yes," I answered tersely.

Her smile wavered but she waited until we were out of the parking lot to demand, "All right, but what was up with you and Edward? You two got along so well at the party. You guys were as awkward as if you had hooked up."

"We didn't. Here," I dug in my pocket and pulled out the note. Washmond had given it back to me, suggesting I might want it for reference when I wrote in my diary tonight. Bastard. "Washmond read this out loud during Euro History today."

"Oh my god," she gasped. "He didn't! And Edward's in—"

"Of course he is!" I cried, throwing my hands up into the air. The truck swerved and I quickly gripped the steering wheel. "It was mortifying, Alice. Now Jessica and I both have detention before school and you see how awkward—I mean, what's his problem, though? It's not like I don't know the feeling isn't mutual; he doesn't have to be so rude to me now."

"That doesn't make much sense."

"I mean, he didn't even have the decency to acknowledge me. He treated me like . . ."

"Like shit. Like he treats every other girl," Alice sighed. "I mean, I guess we see where the rumors all come from."

"Yes, but me? While we were out with you and Jasper? He doesn't have to be all flattering, but he could at least be civil to the best friend of his best friend's girlfriend."

"I know—did you just call me Jasper's girlfriend?" she interrupted herself, suddenly giggling into her hand. Her excitement was infectious and calmed me down just the slightest bit. I was furious, but at least something good had come of it for Alice.

We pulled up to her house and I sighed, "Go on, go do a victory dance in your room. I'm going to go punch a tree or something."

"See if Charlie will teach you to shoot. That might help," she laughed over her shoulder, skipping to the front door. Not a bad idea, actually . . .

That night I began dreaming of Edward Cullen. And the dreams were as bad, if not worse, than the things I had dared to think while drunk.


End file.
